


Here, let me give you a hand.

by orphan_account



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Needles, Pining, Testosterone Injections, Trans Male Character, don't think too much about timeline stuff, habit's trying to be a good friend after flower kid and kamals still his assistant, post-game but the habitat's still around and actually being used for it's intended purpose, supportive dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Getting used to doing testosterone injections on yourself can be difficult. Luckily, Kamal's got the support of a couple folks in The Habitat- even if he keeps insisting on dealing with this alone.





	Here, let me give you a hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> This is my second fic for this series, and I'm super stoked! Kamal's been super fun to write :> I loooove the headcanon that this boys trans, and I love exploring that with him! So, this fic is a little self indulgent still, sorry!
> 
> As a big warning, this fic talks a lot (like a whole lot) about needles and injections. Please be careful if that's something you're sensitive to! I also get squeamish around them, just like Kamal. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Kamal felt real stupid for not being used to this by now.

He felt... exceedingly idiotic that he had locked himself in the only bathroom in The Lounge, bracing himself against the wall, syringe in hand, unable to do the _gosh-darn_ thing he had been _trying_ to do since last night! 

Most of all, he felt like a complete dunce for being a dental assistant who was afraid of needles. 

It wasn’t all needles. When he was the one administering novocaine to a patient, it wasn’t a problem. Perhaps it was the confidence that being at work in a position of authority gave him... or just the four years of grueling practice in dental school. Either way, other people weren’t the issue. The issue was that being alone in his apartment’s tiny bathroom in his boxers didn’t exactly give him the same confidence that being in a dentist’s uniform did.

Defeated, Kamal sat himself down on the lidded toilet seat, sighing a little too loudly and pulling his knees up to his chest. Through tired eyes, he stared down at the tiny vial of testosterone and empty syringe in his hand. He felt pathetic. He’d been in here ever since his lunch break had started, and, truthfully, he didn’t want to have to go back out there again. He wanted to stay cooped up in this stall, folded in on himself, while the jukebox in The Lounge played depressing Pumpkin Accolade beats. 

_“Just like highschool again…”_ Kamal thought sarcastically, squeezing the syringe tightly in his palm and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. 

It had been about a month since he had started testosterone. Ever since he realized he was a guy in late high school, he had been aiming for hormone therapy as the first big step towards transitioning. Back then, Kamal had figured it would happen pretty quickly. But then, _well…_ just the small matter of attending medical school, and then the arduous process of actually _finishing_ medical school, and then settling into the _real world._

It had taken a bit longer than 18-year-old Kamal had originally anticipated.

Things had taken a turn for the better recently, though. Kamal had a real job now, a… relatively stable one at that, (...the idea of The Habitat being anything _close_ to stable was laughable, but whatever, a job was a job). Plus, finding a doctor close to town to prescribe him that good good _man juice™_ was the cherry on top. So, in general, things were looking up! 

Now if he could just stab himself in the thigh like he was _supposed_ to, and actually _get_ that good good man juice™, everything would be perfect! Easier said than done. 

Since he started hormones, Kamal had been taking a short bike ride to the clinic every week to have a nurse do the injection for him. His doctor hadn’t had any qualms with it at first, but was adamant about letting Kamal know that he needed to be able to inject himself on his own after the first month. Well, the first month was up, and yesterday was supposed his injection day. 

Hours of trying last night yielded no results and only spiked his anxiety. So, he was sitting in the bathroom on his lunch break, trying to keep his food down and _just get this darn thing over with, just do it already Kamal, you--!!_

“Kamal?”

The assistant nearly fell off the toilet seat. 

“Y-yes?” He winced at his voice crack. As soon as his vision stopped spinning, Kamal easily identified Jimothan’s black and red loafers through the gap under the stall. 

“You alright in there, son?” 

_What time was it?_ Kamal’s eyes flew to the watch on his wrist, which informed him that it was, indeed, 3:55 PM. _Ah, shit. The jig is up._

“Y-Yeah, be right out Jim, uh,” He quickly unlocked the stall door.

“Sorry.” He half-wheezed. Avoiding eye contact, he tried to worm his way past Jimothan-- 

“Hang on-” 

A hand on Kamal’s shoulder froze him in place. _This man… has such a distinct dad grip…_ Kamal thought as he forced himself to meet Jim’s eyes.

“H-Hey, I should get back to work…”

“Are you feelin’ okay? 

He had been dreading that question. Truth be told, Kamal looked like hell. He had kept himself up all night trying on and off to do this stupid injection. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was frizzy, not it’s usual wavy texture at all. 

“Y-Yeah, I, Uh,” Kamal realized he was still holding the syringe in his sweaty palm. He tried to look natural and cap it so he could shove it into his pants pocket, but Jim’s eyes locked on it before he got the chance. 

The same red eyes darted away from the needle the second they saw it, Jimothan obviously believing that he had crossed a line. “Oh, is that what this is about? Shit, Kamal, I’m sorry, I-” Embarrassment painted Jimothan’s face. The thought crossed Kamal’s mind that this couldn’t possibly get any worse, but that was never true with his luck. It could always get worse.

“Oh, no- It’s not like, I’m not-” Kamal sheepishly forced a smile and held out the capped syringe and vial for Jim to see. “It’s a testosterone shot, like for hormone therapy… for transitioning? Uhm, it’s because, like, my body…” Kamal trailed off. How was he supposed to explain this in terms a 50-year-old bartender dad could understand?

Luckily, Kamal caught a break. Relief replaced the awkward expression on Jimothan’s face upon hearing Kamal’s explanation, and he chuckled lowly. 

“Oh! Okay, okay slow down. No need to explain kid, I understand. I remember when Parsley first started that stuff..” 

It was like Kamal’s brain had just turned back on after being in panic mode for the past half hour. Right, of course Jim knew about this, Parsley still lived at home, after all. Jim had to have seen the needles lying around enough times to recognize them. 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Kamal laughed awkwardly. It was that special type of awkward that you only got around your friend’s parents. Him and Jimothan technically fell into that category, despite being coworkers first. 

This sucked.

“Yeah, I’ve… uh, been having some trouble doing it myself. Obviously.” Oh, he wished he could evaporate into thin air so badly.

“Mmm.” Jimothan leaned against the bathroom wall, sighing a thoughtful dad sigh. “That’s tricky. Doctor probably wants you to get used to injecting it on your own, right? Understandably, but it was hard for Parsley too at first...Hmm.” Kamal was so in awe of how quickly Jim had switched from ‘bartender you can confide in’ to ‘straight up father’ right in front of his very eyes... he almost forgot to feel awkward.

“Maybe I should call up Parsley?” Jim continued, mostly to himself. “Should be outta work by now…” Kamal’s stomach sank at the idea. He liked Parsley enough, but the less people that knew about this, the better. 

“T-That’s okay, Jim, I’ll figure it out!” Kamal used the last of energy to convince the other that he’d be A-Okay, just dandy! This had already gone on too long and he wanted out of this now. “I have to get back to Habit-- to work, anyway.” _Damnit. Be normal for once._ Kamal mentally scolded himself. _You’ve already let one secret slip today._

Jimothan looked up, surprised. “Hm? You sure bud? Gettin’ Parsley on the line isn’t too much of an issue-” But Kamal was already on his way out of The Lounge, praying Jerafina hadn’t heard too much of that absolutely atrocious conversation. 

God, it wasn’t often he regarded being around Habit as salvation from all the other weirdos here, but by the time he clocked back in he would’ve been ready to kiss the guy.  


As soon as the elevator door opened with a ding, Habit perked up from the chair he was sitting in.

“Kamal! You r late-”

“I know. I’m sorry, Doc. Got caught up in a conversation with Ronbo, and you know how that dude gets, today he was moping about-”

Kamal’s lie was quickly cut short as Habit reached out to take the assistant’s hands in his own clawed ones.

“I’m was so worried about you, Kamal!” 

Well that was new. 

“Oh- ah... why?” Wow, Habit’s hands were a lot bigger than Kamal’s own. Sheesh. “I take lunch at the same time every single shift.” 

Habit, realizing that the contact might’ve been a little much, pulled back and instead slowly began nervously twirling his hair. “You… did not look two good wen u came in to-day, so I was a bit worried. I’m sorrie.” 

_God,_ Habit too? Why was everyone so… _soft_ today? It was like a goddamn virus. He didn’t know what Martha was pumping out right now, but she better quit it. If everyone just focused on their jobs and minded their own business-

“Will you tel me whats is on your mind, my friend?” 

Aaaand he was pulling the “friend” card. Habit only used it when he really wanted something from Kamal, or when he was in a particularly good mood because of, I don’t know, teeth or something. But it was on the table now, and there was no going back, it seemed.

Kamal hated today. 

“Okay. But don’t you dare laugh again.” The hygienist squinted up at the doctor, who adamantly shook his head no, of course not, he’d never make fun of his friend! ...Let’s just get this over with.  
“Uhm. I’ve kinda taken the first steps to start physically transitioning.” Kamal’s gaze settled on the floor, refusing to look at Habit while he talked. Somehow, just somehow, he knew it would make this worse. 

“It was... going fine until I had to do the shots myself. I.. wasn’t able to manage it last night so I was trying to do it on my break today… which was, kind of a stupid idea, huh. I realize that now.” Kamal couldn’t help it and risked a peek at the doctor’s face. Though he had braced himself for the worst, Habit just stood staring at him with those gentle orange eyes. Why did that make it worse, somehow? 

“That’s all it is. But it’s not your problem, so don’t go trying to fix it in some weird way like you do. I just... want to get back to work.” He sighed. 

Silence. And then:

“Kamal… R you afraidy of needles? :-(“ 

Eloquent as ever, the doctor had hit the nail right on the head. It was almost annoying. 

“I… I can do it on other people no problem, it’s just that when I try to do it on myself, I get all nervous and my palms start sweating, which makes it hard to hold the stupid thing, and I feel like I’m gonna miss and get it stuck in me and then-” 

He should’ve seen it coming, but he was still surprised when he found himself in Habit’s warm, awkward embrace. Stupid sappy lug. That flower schmoe had really done a number on the doctor’s heart, hadn’t they? Dumb. Stupid. Kamal buried his face in Habit’s fuzzy collar and made a noise that he was glad was muffled by the fluff. 

“You must have bean so stresst out, my friend… poor, poor thinge…” Kamal’s grip on the doctor’s coat tightened as Habit spoke. He should be used to this by now, but it still always threw him for a loop. That’s what a crush did to you though, he supposed. 

“You can let go, Doc. Not that it’s not appreciated but... we should probably get back to work.” 

“Oh-kay, Kamal, but…” _Oh, what now._ “Could eye see that syringe? U hav it with you, yes?” 

Oh. Hm. “Sure, here.” Kamal placed the syringe and vial into Habit’s open hand. 

More silence. But then.. came the kicker:

“...I could do this shot fore U.”

The hygienist's eyes shot up. “H..huh?” 

“This is an ‘18 G’-type needle. Eye hav used it many times beefore.” 

“You.. would really do that for me?” The words left Kamal’s mouth before he could realize how fucking sappy he sounded. How hadn’t this dentist figured out Kamal’s crush on him yet? Truly inconceivable. 

Habit shook his head quickly. “It wud b no-problem at all, my dear-est friend!” So maybe Kamal was wrong to feel as relieved as he currently did. But Habit was a good doctor, and with this out of the way, he could actually focus on other things… yeah, this could work. “O-okay.” 

Habit lit up at the shy smile his assistant offered. “U sit down an I’ll will get my thengs!” On his way out, he paused and turned in the doorway. “Promise u will not leeve, my calla lily?” 

“D-Don’t call me that!” Kamal squaked, completely caught off guard. What was Habit even playing at? A heavy sigh left his lips as he grit his teeth and muttered: “...I promise.” 

“Won-der-full! <:-D”

 _Don’t think about the pet name he just called you or why he called you it. He’s just overly excited at the thought of being able to help out. Flower kid probably taught him that, or whatever._ Kamal absentmindedly swung his feet at the edge of the desk he had taken a seat on. Wild how all of his worries had just evaporated into thin air. Must’ve been the laughing gas or something. 

Before he knew it, Habit was back at Kamal’s side with a small tray of supplies. Alcohol wipes, gauze, a brightly-colored bandage, and even a lollipop. _Leave it to Habit._ Kamal was pretty sure _he’d_ bought those lollipops. 

“Nowe, am I injecting in-two you’re upper arme?” Habit asked. Oh, that’s right. Habit knew how to use a needle, but he was, after all, trained as a dentist. Plus, it’s not like Kamal had ever just dropped where he got hormone injections casually into a conversation.

“Yeah, below my shoulder- uh-” Oh. His sleeves were too long to roll up that far. Fine. Fine, fine, fine. It’s not like this day had embarrassed him enough. Kamal quickly undid the top buttons of his shirt, trying to keep it as professional as he could manage at this late in the game. At least he had a tank top on over his binder today. 

He slid the shirt down his shoulder as Habit disinfected it with a quick swipe of the alcohol wipe. 

“So, uh, you just poke the needle in the top part of that vial. I’m supposed to take 100 milligrams. Yeah, just like that.” Kamal did his best to walk Habit through the process. The dentist’s big clunky hands were actually very precise when he got down to it. Watching Habit do medical things… it was kind of like he became a different person. So focused. 

Soon enough, the syringe’s chamber was full, and Habit looked to Kamal for the go-ahead. 

Kamal… was still nervous. Habit doing it made it a thousand times easier, sure, but there was still residual fear. “H-Hang on I’m-- I, uh...” Kamal fumbled with words while mentally searching for a response that would delay the process further.

“Still scared, huhm?” Habit caught on quickly, his assistant was doing a pretty bad job of hiding his anxiety. 

“I’m not! It’s just that…” Kamal squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m still scared. It’s stupid.”

“Awe, Kamal. That iz O-kay!” Habit smiled a reassuring smile that didn’t really ease Kamal’s nerves at all, but did make his heart skip a beat. “Hear, I hav an idea. ;-O”

The dentist disappeared from Kamal’s line of vision with a flourish, and he didn’t really have the energy to follow him. There were some sounds of things being moved, and then Habit was back at his side. 

“Oh, I heard thru a graped vine that sum-one is bee-ing a silly scaredy cat!!” That wasn’t Habit’s usual voice. Confused, Kamal lifted his head to look and came face-to-face with Habit’s puppet. Ah.

“Doc…” Kamal began, with a slight whine to his voice. “This is...stupid.”

“Non-senz, my dear assistant! I’m know exactly how you’re r ‘fond’ of me! ;-O” Habit continued, still talking through the puppet. “I’m hear 2 helpe!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kamal answered a little too quickly. Truthfully, he thought that puppet was real cute. He might’ve gotten caught absentmindedly running his fingers through its hair before when Habit had it out for recording PSA’s. “But. Thanks.” 

“Mmmmy plezzure! It’s is all-rite to b frightened of needles, calla lily! Do not worrie though, u can hold my hande for the whooole time!”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”. He could feel the tips of his ears burning from the continuous use of the nickname. All the puppet did in response was cock it’s head to the side innocently. 

“Ur important 2 mee.” 

Oh. Well. Okay. He’d just die, whatever, it’s fine. 

“I think I’m ready now.” If this was what it took to change the subject, Kamal would’ve done it a long time ago.

“You r sure?”

Kamal reached out to take the puppet’s tiny little hand in his own sweaty one. “All good.” He affirmed, with a nervous smile.

If that puppet could feel, Kamal’s pretty sure he would’ve yelped in pain from his hand being squeezed so tight. But, he couldn’t (at least… that Kamal knew of), and it really was helping him. When he felt the prick of the needle in his shoulder, he had let out a short whimper, but otherwise… this wasn’t so bad. 

Before he knew it, Habit was putting a neon pink bandage on him. “All done! U did so well, Kamal! :-D I’m am soooo prooud of U!!” 

“It’s not a big deal… like I said, it’s really only the thought of having to do it myself that scares me.” Kamal shrugged his shirt back on as he spoke. “You… helped a ton though, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to sleep tonight if I didn’t get this done.” A beat, and then: “Thank you.” He smiled up at the doctor shyly. 

“No problem, Kamal, anytiem!!” With that, Habit was the one pulled into a hug. Kamal’s words were muffled by the fact that he had buried his face again, but it was genuine. 

“You’re a good friend, Boris.”

Habit couldn’t have been happier if he tried.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Depending on things, I miiight make this a series? I know I want to write one with Parsley and Kamal (Jim totally still made that phone call), so I will definitely write that up if nothing else. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated! I hope you enjoyed ;w;/


End file.
